Falling, Right From The Start
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Scott had it bad for Stiles, but he still wasn't sure how the other boy felt...Sciles.


_Gotta leave these adorable two. I seemed to be on a bit of a buzz with them recently to be honest..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the characters._

Things were all meant to be different when Scott McCall got to University. Things hadn't been bad for him at high school, they had just been completely average. He had always been painfully shy, and so he didn't really have that many friends, but he was liked well enough by people in general, because he was sweet and kind. There was Isaac Lahey, who maybe he would call his best friend. They sort of just hung out together, when Isaac actually came to school and when he wasn't disappearing with this angry looking blonde girl that he hooked up with in the gym locker rooms. Then there was Liam Dunbar, who was his next door neighbour who was a few years younger than him. They didn't hang out at school, but they would walk home together occasionally, and Scott liked the cocky kid well enough. He had a couple of boyfriends, mainly through set ups from Isaac, and so he wasn't a virgin, but he would definitely not call himself experienced either.

He wanted college to be different though.

But he wasn't really doing anything to _change_ things for himself, because the fact remained; he was still ridiculously shy.

Scott and Isaac had signed up to be room mates in the student housing, and it was going pretty good, they had worked out a system. They both mainly kept to themselves, but they would watch movies together, share a bong between them and eat pizza. Isaac had been seeing a girl and Scott would have to clear out, and go the twenty-four hour college library for a few hours, but he didn't really mind. He knew that he needed to get good grades in college, he wanted to be a vet, and he also wanted to make his mum proud, so extra studying never hurt.

But tonight, Isaac was now dragging him out to his first official college party.

Scott had pointedly ignored O-Week, when everyone was getting drunk and high and laid, but Isaac had gone out and had fun, met a couple of people. And now he had decided that it was Scott's turn to get out there. Scott had protested a little, but he really had no excuse. He was completely caught up on his studies, read ahead almost a week in all his textbooks, and was only going to spend the night watching _The Flash_ , smoking a joint and ordering in Chinese food.

That was the first time that he had met Stiles Stilinski.

Scott had been standing a little awkwardly in the corner with a warm cup of beer, watching everyone through his thick eyelashes, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans. Isaac kept coming over to check in one him, but there were a couple of guys from his Sports and Recreation classes at the party, so he kept disappearing off with them. Scott was okay with that, he didn't mind people watching. A lot of people were really drunk, making out with others and dancing really sloppily, talking loudly, with their words slurring together.

And that was then he saw a guy leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room. He was kind of absolutely gorgeous. He was wearing a beanie, with his brown hair poking out the front, a grey tee-shirt with an open plaid long sleeved shirt over the top, which unfairly clung to his shoulders and biceps, and a pair of jeans that weren't quite skinny jeans, but were tight enough to draw Scott's attention. He was bobbing his head, but it was too slowly to be in time with the music that was blasting from the speakers, and that was when Scott noticed the two little wires going up his neck and disappearing under his beanie, and he realized that he was listening to his own music.

At a party, with a bunch of pretty girls who would probably chew off their own arm to get his attention, and this guy was lost in his own world, listening to music.

This guy was his spirit animal.

It took Scott a second to realize that he was smiling to himself and probably generally looking like an idiot.

A red headed girl went over to the brunette boy, tugging out one of the ear buds and saying something to him. It looked like she was trying to convince him to join the party, but he was just grinning at her, giving her this soothing, gorgeous smile, and then leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose before putting the ear bud back in. The red head looked exasperated, shrugging her shoulders and walking off, back toward a pretty brunette girl. The boy watched her go, a fond smile on his face, and Scott idly wondered if they were together, but there was something about the interaction that seemed more like sibling behavior.

The gorgeous boy disappeared when a throng of drunk jocks poured into the room, cheering and lifting someone above their head. Scott sighed, and shuffled out of their way, trying to become as flat as he could against the wall, and waited for them to pass. When they did, the guy was gone, and Scott made a face. Isaac came back over at some point, made him finish off his cup and then handed him another one, telling him to at least try and enjoy himself.

Scott made an attempt, he really did. He talked to three people, and was completely uninterested in every single one. He was probably really boring to them as well, because he sort of just nodded his head a lot and mumbled out replies. At about one in the morning, he decided that he was done, and was going to head home. He tried to find Isaac, but the blonde had disappeared on him, so he flicked off a text and then wound his way toward the front door. There were people on the front balcony, smoking and drinking, and then there was a couple who were barely around the side of the house, and it looked as though they were doing a lot more than making out. Scott licked his lips as he walked down the steps, heading toward the front gate.

"Leaving so soon?" Asked a soft voice, and Scott paused, looking to his left and seeing the gorgeous guy.

That was where it started.

Being with Stiles Stilinski made Scott feel as though he belonged somewhere. Like properly belonged somewhere. Only a month or so into their friendship and it was as though they had been friends for years. Stiles had a way of calming him, drawing him out of his shell, pushing him a little but not so much that he was uncomfortable. There was just...Something indescribable about Stiles.

At first, there as a bit of tension between Isaac and Stiles. Mainly because Isaac could be kind of a dick, and Stiles had a way of calling people on their bullshit. But that relaxed out after a few months, especially when Isaac saw how good Stiles was for Scott. It went the same for Scott with Stiles' friends. Most of them invited him right in, except for Lydia Martin, the red head who had gone up to Stiles on the first night that the two had met. She was fiercely protective of Stiles, and Scott was still a little confused about their relationship.

He knew that they _had_ slept together.

He knew that sometimes when they were all drinking, she would sit on Stiles lap and he would have his hand higher on her thigh than 'just friends' would have.

He knew that they most definitely kissed when they were all stoned.

But he wasn't sure what they actually were.

And he didn't really want to ask. Stiles would undoubtedly be happy to try and explain the relationship that he had with the stunner—Stiles was always more than happy to talk enough for the two of them, that was another reason that they got on so well—but Scott was a little bit scared of what the answer would be.

Because he definitely had a thing for Stiles.

But after time, maybe six months in, Lydia warmed up to Scott and welcomed him in. Which was good, because once Lydia liked you, she would have your back til the end of the earth.

Scott also found out that Stiles wasn't completely straight, which should have helped, except one of his ex boyfriends was Derek Hale, this utterly and incredibly gorgeous man that intimidated the hell out of Scott. And another person that Scott wasn't entirely certain of where their relationship stood. Because he had seen a couple of lazy, sensual kisses exchanged between the two of them as well. Stiles was completely comfortable with his sexuality, another way that he was completely opposite to Scott, and so it made sense that he would have people that he was sleeping with, but that didn't make it any easier on Scott.

There were times when they were getting stoned, sometimes when they were in a whole room full of people, sometimes when it was just the two of them, and their fingers would brush as they were passing a joint or the bong, and Stiles would look at him these heavy, clouded eyes and Scott wondered if he should make a move. He didn't doubt that if he tried to kiss Stiles that Stiles would kiss him back, but he was just too scared to take that next step. It kind of hurt enough when he saw how easily Stiles interacted with the others, even though he knew he had no right to be jealous, since he had no claim over the other boy, and he hadn't even met him first, he couldn't imagine how much it would hurt after he had actually felt Stiles' lips on his.

He was also scared that it wouldn't be enough for him, because Scott didn't want to be like Lydia or Derek, where it was just the lines between friendship that were blurred. He wanted something obvious and certain, something he could hold onto.

Something solid.

"Scott?" Stiles tilted his head to the side, and Scott realized that he had completely zoned out of the conversation at hand. He blinked and tried to refocus his attention on Stiles, first looking at his obscene, pink mouth and then up to meet his whiskey coloured eyes. Stiles smiled easily at him, leaning forward so close that Scott could smell the mint from his chewing gum and the cigarette smoke on his breath. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Scott nodded and cleared his throat, looking down at the books in front of him.

"Are you worried about your exam?" Stiles asked softly, flopping down onto the bed behind Scott, easily spreading out his long limbs as though he belonged there. Since they had become friends, Stiles had probably started spending even more time in the dorm room than Isaac, who had started dating a girl in one of his classes. Scott liked the fact his pillow usually smelt like Scott, and that sometimes Stiles fall asleep next to him when they were high and watching TV, and that Stiles was so comfortable with with him, in his space.

"No...Well, yeah," Scott scrunched up his nose.

"You're gonna do fine," Stiles reassured him, and it seemed to be an absent minded gesture for Stiles to put his hand on Scott's back, soothing his hand up and down. Scott tensed for a moment under the touch, but Stiles didn't stop, running his hand over Scott's back and he finally relaxed into the touch, glad that he was facing away from his friend, because the feeling of Stiles' hands on him was enough to make him half hard straight away. "You just need to relax...Maybe we need to light up another bong."

"I won't be able to concentrate on anything if I have any more weed," Scott tried to cover his nervousness by letting out a short laugh. The truth was, they had already smoked two bowls throughout the afternoon, and the words in his books were all blurring together, so there was no way he was going to get any more studying tonight. But he was going to keep staring down at his books and try not to move if it meant that Stiles would keep rubbing his back like that.

"Scott?" Stiles asked idly, in such a blasé tone that Scott was completely unprepared by the next question. "When are you going to kiss me?"

Scott's whole body jerked forward and he fell off the edge of his bed, onto the floor. Stiles propped himself up on his elbow and raised his eyebrows at Scott as though he was genuinely confused by Scott's reaction. Scott just stared up at Stiles, waiting for him to say something else, but it seemed as though his usually talkative self had decided that this was the one moment he wasn't going to speak. He just stared at Scott, his expressive eyes wide and waiting. Scott had no idea how he was supposed to answer that, so he blurted out the first thing on his tongue.

"Huh?!"

Stiles looked...Maybe disappointed? Scott couldn't quite place the expression, but he knew it wasn't a good one, and it was his fault that Stiles was feeling that way.

The effects of the weed that they had smoked earlier had faded, but they were still there, and Scott wondered if that was why Stiles had said something. But Stiles was no amateur when it came to being high, and he tended to just get relaxed and sometimes handsy when he was stoned, he didn't start asking questions.

"Why would you ask that?" Scott asked, his voice not quite as high pitched and nervous as before, but there was an undeniable tremor there.

"Because I like you," Stiles stated in his matter-a-fact way. "And I know that you like me, but for some reason you've never made a move. I haven't done anything because I didn't want to push you because it seems like something is holding you back, but I haven't been able to figure out what it is." Stiles shifted, sliding off the bed until he was on the ground in front of Scott, albeit falling more gracefully than Scott had. "There isn't someone else, because you're either in class, at work, or with me. So what is it?" Stiles looked at Scott intently, and apart from the slight redness in his eyes, his gaze was completely focused, waiting for for Scott's response.

"It's because there's someone else for _you_!" Scott exclaimed, and Stiles looked caught off guard for the first time.

"What?" His eyebrows pulled together.

"Lydia! A-and Derek!" Scott continued. "I like you, but I don't want—I can't doing anything because I want _you_ , and I want you to myself, but I don't...I don't know if that's what you want."

"Lydia?" Stiles repeated. "Derek? I'm not with them. I'm not with anyone. And I haven't been with anyone in months, if you know what I mean." From the wiggle of Stiles' eyebrows, Scott knew exactly what Stiles was implying, but it wasn't quite processing.

"But I've seen you with them!" He protested. "I've seen you kissing them and the way you act when you're with them—especially Lydia when you're high or drunk." Stiles was still frowning, but he didn't look as confused as he did before.

"I haven't kissed Lydia in months, and Derek has been even longer," Stiles responded gently. "Derek's actually with this girl, Braeden, she's kind of badass and scary and he's totally in love. And me and Lydia? You know that we're just really close," he winced and shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe we're a bit closer than we should be, but it's just because we've known each other for so long. We dated ages ago, but there's been nothing more between us in a long time."

"I've seen you guys kiss..." it sounded pathetic coming out of his mouth but Stiles didn't look annoyed at him.

"We used to hook up when we were high," Stiles admitted. "But that was ages ago." Scott tried to remember the last time he saw Stiles and Lydia together. He could conjure up images of them on the ratty couch in the corner of Malia Tate's flat, Lydia stretched out on top of him and Stiles' hand on her ass, but that was a long time ago. The more he thought about it, that had been the last time, and that had been about six—no, seven—months ago. "Scott...That was before _you_ ," Stiles reached out and put his hand on the side of Scott's neck, his thumb lightly tracing over the cut of his jaw. "You're the only one I want to kiss," he shrugged and let out a short laugh. "You're the only one I want to do _more_ than kiss," he admitted sheepishly, a red flush coming up from underneath his collar. Scott licked his lips and then nodded hesitantly.

"Yeah. O-okay," he stammered. Stiles' thumb felt so good running over his jawline, his hand hot against his neck, and the his thumb shifted, and was touching his lower lip, pressing down lightly in the centre. Scott swallowed hard as Stiles leaned in, and their lips finally met. It's a little bit awkward at first, their noses bumping together, but instead of going red and feeling embarrassed, Scott laughed, and Stiles laughed with them, and they adjusted the tilt of their heads, and then their mouths were coming together and properly, and it felt fucking amazing.

It was slow and lazy and _incredible_ , no rush at all.

Stiles tasted so good as he licked the roof of Scott's mouth and then sucked his lower lip into his mouth. Their mouths were slick from the couple of beers that they had drunk when their mouths had dried out after they had smoked, and Stiles' lips slide against Scott's. Scott's nose bumped against Stiles' and then Stiles was moving forward to slowly push Scott backwards. There was a cushion on the ground that had come from the couch, and Stiles pulled away from Scott for a moment to re-position the cushion underneath Scott's head, and then he was stretching out on top of him.

Stiles' weight felt so good, pressing against all of Scott, their cocks pressed together through their sweatpants. It was instinct to reach around and grab Stiles' ass firmly, grinding their hips harder together, and when Stiles moaned into his mouth, Scott's cock jumped inside his briefs. Stiles moved away from his mouth and started nipping his way down Scott's neck, over his collarbone, sucking red marks into his skin. Scott clawed at Stiles' shirt, and then they both managed to get them off, throwing them over their heads and then falling back against each other.

It paid testament to how long it had been since they had been with anyone, and how much the boys wanted each other, when it didn't take long at all for them both come in their pants, kissing sloppily and giggling against each others chests. Even after they came, and they were both slowly softening, they continued kissing, Scott licking at Stiles' moles and Stiles pressing his lips to the tip of Scott's nose.

The ground was getting a little bit uncomfortable, and it wasn't going to be long until the come started drying and got all flaky and itchy, but Scott didn't care.

Stiles was finding stupid videos of cats failing at jumping, and they were passing a joint back and forth and the room smelt skunky and sweet, and it was all fucking perfect. Because Stiles was his, and even though they had done this a hundred times before—smoking and watching videos of Youtube—but _this_ , the half dressed and sex dumb and Stiles leaning over to kiss his shoulder sleepily?

This was now _his_.

 _Let me know what you think :)_


End file.
